


Distraction

by Bourneblack



Series: Kinktober 2018 [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Breast Fucking, F/M, Flirting, Kinktober, Lingerie, Mirror Sex, Muscles, POV Darcy Lewis, Strength Kink, Teasing, Titfucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, and darcy lewis is here for it, and ripping lingerie, darcy knows what she's doing, he also likes lingerie, i don't make the rules, i need to combine days, if i'm going to do kinktober, steve rogers has a leg kink, steve rogers is really strong, this is a f a c t
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 11:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16240568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bourneblack/pseuds/Bourneblack
Summary: “Where is there a distraction?” Steve says before crossing his arms. All of Darcy’s thought processes stop at that moment, because holy shit his biceps and triceps and forearms were utterly and completely bulging with that movement, the tendons and veins pressing taunt against the skin, his shirt barely containing the sheer mass of his body.Steve’s looking around the gym like he can find the source of the distraction, and Sam is swapping a look of disbelief with Jane’s look of incredible suffering. Darcy ignores them, and gives Steve a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle sooner or later,” she says cheekily.ORDarcy stares at Steve while he works out, then Steve stares at Darcy while she works out, and Sam and Jane roll their eyes.That's it that's the storyKinktober Day 4: Mirror SexKinktober Day 9: Titfucking | Strength/Muscles | LingerieKinktober Day 30: Stocking/Tight/Pantyhose | Breast Worship





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> If i ever want to finish kinktober, i need to start combining prompts lol
> 
> I've been on vacation, and haven't been angsty enough to finish wrecking balls, But I have been writing it! It will be done!
> 
> Prompt from random-rave on tumblr: _For weeks Darcy and Steve have gotten into the habit of working out together in the morning at the Avengers Tower. Darcy enjoys the show of muscles on Steve working out while making sure he has a view to enjoy too. The sexual tension reaches its tipping point between the two after Darcy invites Steve to her room for breakfast and he walks out of her bathroom freshly showered and shirtless. They jump each other immediately._
> 
> Enjoy!

Darcy stares at herself in the mirror, then lets out a weary sigh.

Listen, she loves them, okay? She loves the way they attract attention (when appropriate), she loves the way they let her fill out a dress, and she absolutely _adores_ having them manhandled.

But when she runs? In her flimsy yoga sports bras? They’re complete _garbage._

And so Jane, who had recently been invited to the tower for a several month long space-nerd research project, and who oh so kindly brought her poly-sci intern with her, and who wants to start running and lifting for her “health” (but really so Thor will be rougher with her in the bedroom, learned _that one_ over a few glasses of wine), drags Darcy to a sportswear store to buy her actual real-life “high-impact” sports bras.

High-impact, which, apparently, means that they smash her breasts against her chest until she’s flattened out like a man, and have enough material to stop a bullet. And they were sixty dollars. Jesus.

She gets two like that, and has a bunch of less-restricting bras at home she could probably lift weights or do yoga with, but while she’s at the store, she spots a nice, completely impractical, pink and red pushup sports bra with a tasteful V cut down the center.

“Absolutely not.” Jane had said.

Darcy had bought it.

Shaking her head at the memory, she’s stuffs her breasts into one of her brand new high-impact sports bras, and steps out the bathroom and makes her way to the elevator of the tower, where she has to tell a voice in the ceiling that claims he’s not Skynet to take her to the gym. They had moved in the guest quarters for the time, which Tony Stark has the nerve to apologize for, as if it’s completely unacceptable he’s run out of floors on his building to lend to surprise guests, and is appalled that she and Jane have to share a two bedroom apartment that’s bigger than anything Darcy’s ever stayed in in her life.

Jane had elbowed her when she told him he could make it up to her somehow, but Tony was grinning.

When she arrives, Jane’s already stretching, and greets her with an excited smile, her hair tied up in a bun, ready to set her mind to this task the same way she sets her mind to anything, which is with frightening determination.

Darcy’s not sure how she managed to run a mile without collapsing, and she was ready to say good effort all around, go take a shower, and eat breakfast (because it’s _6 AM_ ), when Jane smiles back at her and says: “That was a good warmup!”

“ _Warmup?_ What do you consider a workout?”

“It’s leg day, Darcy!” She says with an evil grin, readjusting her bun.

“I thought that was enough legs already.” She gripes but she follows from the track which runs around the entire gym, and to the “normal human” weights in the corner of the gym, where Jane teaches her how to do a squat.

She has to admit, the feeling of strain in her legs is actually quite nice, and she thinks she could get used to this. She’s pretty naturally strong, at least, she’s built like a brick house, and her thick thighs that have saved many lives.

And speaking of saving lives.

She’s just finishing her set of ten with the bar to trade off with Jane when the door to the gym opens wide, and in walks two men. One is a dark skinned man with a friendly smile, who’s laughing jovially. The other man is Steve Rogers.

Darcy nearly drops the bar, only just managing to rack it on the last squat. She takes in the man greedily. His blonde hair is windswept to the side, and his cheeks are pink from the outside cold, making Darcy think he just got back from a run. He’s wearing a ridiculously, unfairly tight black compression shirt, long sleeve which somehow made it sexier, like every muscle on this man’s body was straining to be freed from his skin.

Mother of Christ, those _arms._

The man with Steve says something to him and Steve laughs, a ridiculous full body thing that tenses the muscles in his abs and his arms as he presses a large palm against his chest lightly, and Jane has to physically push Darcy out the way to get to the squat rack.

And then Steve turns his baby blues towards her, a friendly smile already blooming on his face. “You must be Miss Lewis?” He says, and fuck, his voice is low and smooth, and has this little teasing twang that is probably going on the coroner’s report produced from her sudden and untimely death.

“Darcy, please. And you must be Mr. Rogers?” Darcy says with her best smile, pretending her hair’s not a mess and she’s drowning sweat. She smells like deodorant and metal from the bar of the squat rack.

“Steve, please.” He says politely. Darcy wants to take him home bury him in blankets. Preferably with her there as well.

“So,” Darcy leans uncomfortably against the machine to her left, pretending to be casual. “Did you get that from the kids section?”

“…sorry?” Steve blinks at her in confusion, but behind her, she sees his friend stifling a grin.

“Your shirt. We’re they just out of your size?” Darcy says curiously.

“Darcy!” Jane says, affronted, from the squat rack.

“Oh! Uh.” He flushes. The man behind him has his hand on his knees, laughing.

“I mean, I’m not complaining…”

 _“Darcy.”_ Jane moans. “Steve, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Steve assures Jane, before giving Darcy a brief, considering look.

“She brings up a point man, those shirts are way to tight.” The man next to him grins. He turns towards her and offers a hand. “Sam Wilson.”

“Darcy Lewis.” She responds with an equal smile.

“Well, don’t let us get in your way, ladies. We’re just heading to lift some weights after our run,” Steve says.

“You run with him?” Darcy says incredulously.

“If running with him, you mean we start running at the same time, and he goes three times farther than I do, then yes, we run together.” Sam says with a snort.

“Only three times, huh?” Steve says as they walk away.

“Shut up man.” Sam says good-naturedly.

Darcy grins at their banter, and her grin widens when she catches the look on Jane’s face.

“No Darcy.” She says. Darcy ignores her.

 

 

 

Jane has decided that Darcy and she should start with a three day a week workout plan, so they find themselves in the gym quite often, to Darcy’s chagrin, and secret happiness.

Chagrin, because ow, but happiness, because, as it turns out, Steve’s shirts _could_ get tighter. It’s when Darcy drops a dumbbell exceptionally hard on the ground a month or so later (because every. Single. Abdominal. Was outlined), when she gets caught by Sam, him raising a knowing eyebrow as Steve lifts what’s probably a metric ton over his head, muscles rippling like a goddamn Calvin Klein model.

Darcy, never one to look at a horse’s mouth, gift or not, asks politely if Sam would like to change workout partners.

“I make a great spotter.” She says to Steve when he politely asks why. “And I may learn better from someone stronger than me.” She winks at him, and he blinks back owlishly.

“I suppose that makes sense.” Steve says after a moment. “And I’d be happy to help.” He says firmly, like he’s taking on a mission. “If that’s okay with Sam?”

“I’d be happy to, if Ms. Jane were willing to.” Sam says, and boy oh boy does Darcy hope she can take a Goddamn hint.

Jane rolls her eyes. “At least you won’t be distracted anymore when I try to bench my new best.” She says when Darcy turns her pleading eyes on her. Darcy gives her a grin.

Steve frowns at that. “Where is there a distraction?” Steve says before crossing his arms. All of Darcy’s thought processes stop at that moment, because holy _shit_ his biceps and triceps and forearms were utterly and completely bulging with that movement, the tendons and veins pressing taunt against the skin, his shirt barely containing the sheer _mass_ of his body.

Steve’s looking around the gym like he can find the source of the distraction, and Sam is swapping a look of disbelief with Jane’s look of incredible suffering. Darcy ignores them, and gives Steve a smile. “Nothing I can’t handle sooner or later,” she says cheekily.

 

 

 

So Jane and Darcy still run together in the morning, but with lifting they switch with Sam and Steve. And despite everything, Darcy finds out she’s enjoying herself. Sure, yeah, okay, it hurts, but through all that hurt, the results are actually quite enjoyable. She’s not a thin girl, and has dispelled any illusion of becoming one, but her thighs have started tightening into muscle, her core has strengthened underneath her belly, and she can actually run more than three miles without stopping.

And Steve’s been a fantastic partner through it all, never one mentioning how small of weights she was using compared to him, taking the time to correct her form and offer her praise on her new personal bests. And she’s doing great, except…

“Darcy, I feel like I’ve told you, you have to keep your heels down when you squat.” He says with mild disappointment, and Darcy sighs as she racks the bar. “Leg position is very important, especially as you go up in weight. Do you need to watch me again?”

“Yes, I think she does,” Sam calls over from where he’s doing bicep curls with the free weights.

Darcy snorts. Watching Steve’s tight ass strain outwards as he did a squat was probably the reason she was completely fucking up her own technique. She sighs. “I guess I’m just not getting the hang of it, even after a few weeks. I keep getting distracted” She says sheepishly. She really should focus, she may actually start to hurt herself, the view certainly _not_ helping.

Steve nods, and starts walking around to the sides of the squat bar, taking off the extra weight on the side.

“What are you doing, Cap?” She asks curiously, adjusting the strap on her high impact vest of a bra.

“I’m going to teach you the technique again, but with a lighter weight for safely. Line yourself up.” Steve says.

Darcy nods and puts the bar behind her head, resting it on her shoulders, but not lifting.

And then her heart stops, as Steve sidles up behind her, a few inches away from her. Darcy’s breath catches, and she swallows hard. _Keep your shit together_ _Darcy_.

“Spread your legs, Darcy.” He says, the same tone as before, but this time directly into her ear, his breath ghosting across her neck.

“Right.” Holy shit. Holy shit. “Right.” Darcy moves her legs to shoulder width, looking in the mirror in front of her at Steve behind her, observing her position.

“Good.” He says, finally sure she is in the place. “Now lower yourself, slowly down, thrusting your hips backwards.” He lines up behind her, and Darcy watches in the mirror as he outlines the shape of her body with his hands slightly, almost like he is making sure she is in the proper position.

Christ. “Okay.” Darcy squeaks, and she starts to lower. Steve moves with her, and Darcy’s suddenly grateful she’s only squatting the bar and not the 180 she’s gotten to already, because Steve’s hands have come to rest lightly on her hips, and she’s basically lost all of her focus, her ass just barely brushing against the loose fabric of Steve’s shorts as he leads her into a low, deep squat.

“That’s the position.” Steve says confidently, and Darcy knows, just knows, what’s she’s going to be dreaming about for the next three months. Darcy stands back up, the bar providing barely any resistance as Steve stands up with her, and in an amazing feat, he takes the bar from off her back and racks it easily with his left hand.

“That was a little better.” Steve says, “but your technique still needs some work.” All Darcy can do is nod at Steve’s reflection in the mirror. She’s not usually one to be at a loss for words, but she’s struggling to find a decent response.

And Darcy freezes, as Steve slides his hand just a little too low on her hip and says. “Maybe we can try again when you’re a little less…” Steve lowers his voice, and tilts his head closer to her ear, so that it resonates directly to her core “… _distracted_.”

They make brief eye contact in the mirror. Darcy swallow visibly.

He smiles, pats her hip once, and turns to the rack again, this time loading it up with the bright red “don’t-lift-this-if-you’re-not-superpowered” weights.

All Darcy can do is watch.

 

 

 

There’s no way she’s letting him get her this easy, superhero or not.

She gets her chance at revenge a few days later when Sam’s out of town to visit his family, and Jane says she’s having a week long trip to the middle of nowhere Mexico to take some readings on some suspicious sand, which, what? Anyways, it means they’re not going to be there to workout, and see the pretty much blatant show she’s about to put.

She pulls out the pink and red bra. Grins at it, chuckles a bit. Kisses it even, then pretends that wasn’t weird. She slips it on, and suddenly she has cleavage. It’s not over the top, really just… impractical. Like something she would wear with a low cut t-shirt to a bar. The top is cut into a V, and her breasts bouncing with every step (ow), and frankly, she’s not sure how anyone works out like this. She wears a thick, loose shirt on top, something that she’s going to sweat in immediately, and her high waisted workout pants, another impractical, but much more comfortable, outfit choice.

She comes to the gym, bright and early, foregoing the run for the bike machine, and meets Steve when he gets back. There had been no more obvious flirtations from that first day, other than some longer, lingering glances, and Steve taking a bit more of a hands on role to her training, but if all goes well, all that was going to change today.

She makes a show of overheating throughout the whole workout, talking about how she “hadn’t done the laundry yet,” and “this is all I had left,” and “God it’s so hot in here,” and “wow I’m really working up such a sweat in this,” until Steve, says with a small amount of concern, if she needed to borrow a shirt of his.

“I wouldn’t want to put you out,” she says with a sigh as she sits at the bench press. “We’re almost done, and I have something underneath, it’s really just a sports bra, but… would you mind if I…”

Steve nods immediately, still concerned. What a sweetheart. “Whatever you need Darcy.” She’s only been wearing her boob smashing bras, so Steve’s probably expecting one of those, which makes it all the much sweeter when she pulls off the heavy shirt and reveals her sports bra of choice.

She knows she makes quite a sight: her cleavage is slick with sweat, and her chest shakes lightly as she removes the long sleeves from her arms.

Steve goes from concerned to flustered in point oh two seconds flat, his eyes tracing her breasts not quite quickly enough, before snapping to her face, then snapping towards the ceiling.

 “You ok Steve?” Darcy says as she lies back against the bench, the bar racked above her head. “You look a little distracted.”

Steve makes a huffing, exhaling type noise, and walks around towards the back of the bench near her head. “Haven’t done the laundry yet, huh?” He says with disbelief and a little bit of humor.

“Haven’t got around to it.” She says smiling up at him. He looks down and Darcy knows this time he can’t help himself, knows the way her breasts look without gravity pulling them down, the shape enhanced by her lying on her back, the supple roundness slightly loose in the low cut bra. “You gonna help me spot Steve? Or you just going to stand there looking pretty?”

“I’m not the one who…” Steve trails off, then shakes his head. “Just the bar?”

Darcy’s been lifting much more than the bar, but it’s probably not a good idea to go for a new personal best when her spotter is compromised.

“I want to work on my technique.” She says. “Get in the right position, you know?” She reaches up to put her hands on the bar, and her chest shakes in the bra.

Steve laughs breathlessly. “From where I’m standing, everything looks just fine to me.”

To Steve’s credit, he does manage to help her go through the façade of lifting, going so far as to make sure that she got the proper number of sets and reps in. But it can’t be easy, not with her constantly bringing the bar slowly down to her breast line, Steve watching attentively as a good spotter should.

She finishes, and it’s the last thing they have to do, thank God. After Steve helps her place the bar back on the rack with one smooth curl of his bicep, Darcy stands up facing away from Steve and starts stretching, swinging, then pulling at arms.

“So Jane and I usually eat breakfast after we work out.” Darcy says as she puts a leg up on the bench to stretch out her tight thighs, bending over none so subtlety. “You want to join me? I make kickass waffles.”

Darcy turns to look at Steve, who has hidden the lower half of his body behind the shelf the contains all the weights. “That sounds fantastic, actually.” Steve says.

Darcy releases her leg. “Great! You coming?” She starts to walk towards the locker room to get showered and dressed.

“Yep. Yes. Just. Give me a minute.” Steve responds, and Darcy grins victoriously.

 

 

 

“So, you a syrup guy or a fruit guy?” Darcy says. She’s fresh out of her shower, back in her apartment in tights and a t-shirt, her bright red bra replaced with something simple. Steve had joined her after showering himself, and had replaced his too-tight long sleeve workout shirt with a too tight short sleeve tee, which was both better, and worse for Darcy.

“I really don’t make waffles all that often. Or ever, really.” Steve says from behind her, standing next to her in the kitchen area, looking curiously around at all the ingredients on the table. “Kinda was a beans in a can kinda guy.”

“What, for breakfast?” Darcy says with a frown.

“We were in a depression. Which apparently was ‘The’ Depression. I’m just happy people figured out how to season their food.” Steve says with a cheeky grin.

“But what do you eat now? Don’t tell me you still buy beans.”

“Oatmeal mostly? If I buy in bulk, it can usually last about a month.” Steve shrugs.

“You are a sad, sad man.” Darcy says after a moment, pressing a fingertip to his chest. Then she just kind of… leaves it there. No use moving it, right?

 “It’s my shirt, right?” Steve says suddenly, and Darcy blinks up at him. “That’s what gets you too distracted to work out. You think it’s too tight.”

Darcy shrugs, turning her body towards him. “I’m just worried you’ll, I don’t know, cut off your circulation. I mean, look at this thing. Do you have any breathing room?” Darcy runs a hand up Steve’s bicep and tucks and finger into where the sleeve meets his arm, pulling gently at the fabric. “See.” She says lowly. “That can’t be good for you.”

“So are you saying I should take it off?” Steve says, considering.

“That might help.” Darcy swallows. “Might be hard to cook with it off, though.”

Steve makes a small frown with his face, like he’s weighing the pros and cons of eating breakfast and having proper circulation. “I’m not really thinking about cooking right now.” Steve says, and he reaches under the hem of his shirt and pulls it clean off his body, dropping it to the floor beside her.

Darcy dies, but luckily come back to life fairly quickly, reaching a hand to trail from his sternum, between his tight, muscular pecs, down each individual outline of his abdominals, stopping at his navel. She looks up slowly to Steve’s sparkling eyes, light with amusement, dark with arousal.

“Not when there’s something I want to eat, right here.” Steve says lowly.

Darcy wraps both her hands around his necks and kisses him, and Steve kisses, and kisses, and _kisses_ her back, until Darcy’s pressed up against the fridge. Steve kisses fast and hard and sure, and Darcy’s hands trace Steve’s everything, completely with a mind of their own, her brain stuttered with arousal as she fights to keep up.

Steve pulls back and rips Darcy’s shirt in half and Darcy feel like someone had just shot her with arousal. He growls and tears the thin fabric of her bra too, pulling it off her shoulders.

“I liked that bra.” She chokes out as Steve gazes at her heavy breasts.

“Fucking bill me.” He breathes out before taking her breasts delicately in his hands. He squeezes and kneads and gropes, cupping underneath them and lifting, running his thumb over the brown nipples breathlessly. Darcy, who’s nipple sensitivity is quite low, looks on, slightly amused.

“Is it too cheesy to make another joke about being distracted?” She quips, and moans slightly as Steve pinches her left nipple between his two fingers in retaliation. He grips her breasts and sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling the other one in his hand. Darcy hums at the light sensation, and busies herself with scraping her nails up the muscles on Steve’s back and neck, almost obsessively groping the hard planes of muscles below his skin. She marvels for half a second at the contrast of her obsession with his hard musculature and his with her soft breasts.

Steve switches sides, licking and sucking at her nipples greedily, before he reaches underneath her and lifting. Darcy immediately wraps her legs around his waist, and Steve releases her breast to moan quietly. “You’re thighs are amazing Darce.” He says, and she squeezes them tightly around his hips.

“You sure know how to make a girl feel good.” She grins. Steve gives her a promising, dangerous look.

“Which one is your bedroom?” He growls.

Darcy points it out, and feels herself warm at the thought that Steve is carrying her to the bedroom like this. She’s a built woman, and has never met a man strong enough to manhandle her like this.

She catches sight of them in the mirror, and marvels at Steve’s naked chest, her breasts pressed heavily to the front. Catching her gaze—boy he does not miss a thing, does he—he moves her, flipping her position so that she was facing away from him. He lifts her from under her thighs, spreading them as wide as they go, so that the thin black fabric of her tights stretch wide across her center, and so that her legs were spread wide and visible in front of the mirror.

“God, look at you…” Steve says.

“Right back ‘atcha soldier.” Darcy moans breathlessly. “You just gonna look, or you gonna show me what your body can do?”

Steve grins and shifts her weight to one hand—fucking hell he’s strong—before sliding his other across the fabric covering her pussy. He teases with his fingers, causing Darcy to twitch and gasp at the light, ticklish sensation. Steve presses his hand down a little more firmly and Darcy moans louder, tilting her head back into his shoulder.

“No panties?” Steve says, sucking lightly on her neck.

“Had some…expectations for today.” Darcy gasps. “ _Harder.”_

He acquiesces, and Darcy gasps unabashedly at the sensation, the line of his hand rubbing up against her pussy and her clit, hard and warm just how she likes it.

“I can feel you through the fabric.” He says quietly into her ear, and confirms the fact he can by digging his fingers into her clit, and starting small tight circles through her black pants.

“Steve! Fuck…” Darcy moans, and he responds by pressing harder, Darcy trying to buck her hips into his hand greedily. “Get me out of these, Christ.” She begins to struggle, trying to work her hands into her waistband.

Steve responds by shifting her weight again in his hands and ripping the fabric, right down the middle.

“Holy fucking _shit_ that’s hot.” She says, her pussy rushing with wetness at the display. Steve chuckles then shifts her back, running his fingers back to where they were before, picking up some of the wetness from her pussy before working her way around her clit in light circles.

None of that shit. “Fucking _harder_ Steve, rub it like you Goddamn mean it.” She commands, and Steve complies instantly, moving her fingers back and forth across her clit aggressively, Darcy tilting back in pleasure at the feeling. “Fuck… God!” She shouts, nearly succumbing to the intense sensations.

Steve puts her down and readjusts, one hand coming to cup her breasts greedily and the other returning to her pussy, rubbing hard and using the wetness of her pussy to ease the way. Darcy bends over, thrusting her ass back into his thighs and making contact with Steve’s cock in his shorts, and Steve grinds back eagerly.

It suddenly becomes too much, and Darcy pulls at the hand on her clit, Steve stopping his ministrations but still gropes her breasts almost distractedly.

“I need you in me, like, right now, Steve.”

Steve chuckles and pushes her over to the bed. “Condoms?” He asks.

“Drawer.” Darcy responds before climbing in. He grabs one and works to undo the wrapper.

“You ripped all of my clothes,” Darcy says with a pout, and a hand comes down to tease herself.

“Clothes are distractions. Haven't you learned anything?” Steve says as he slides the thin latex on. “On your back?” He asks.

She lies back, and he grabs a pillow, placing it underneath her hips. He takes both of her legs and tilts them up, so that her feet were up on his shoulders.

“Plus I kinda like the tights.” He says with a moan. “Wonder what you would look like in nylons, or stockings.” He presses inwards, and Darcy’s eyes roll back in pleasure. “Wanna buy you a full Goddamn set, something dark red…” He moans as he gets fully seated in her body. “God you’re tight…”

“You can buy me…” Darcy has to stop to pant as she adjusts to the fullness. “Whatever the fuck you want. Bet you like me in a thong, huh? Bustier? Garters?” Steve’s hips twitch at that, and Darcy grins.

“Dark red garter belt, hooked to two lacy stockings, matching bra.” She says. Steve’s eyes trace over her body, glazed, like he’s imagining it, and Darcy actually feels him throb in her pussy.

He leans over slightly, pressing her flexibility to the limit and starts to move his hips, not bothering to go slow, just pounding relentlessly into her g-spot. Darcy moans shamelessly and loud as he fucks into her, hips slapping wetly with each thrust.

“Wanna dress you up.” Steve mutters, dizzy with lust. “So fucking beautiful. Wanna draw you…” Steve says.

“Harder, Steve, please!” Darcy gasps, his words going straight to her head. “I can take it, fuck, I can take it!”

Steve really lets go and Darcy thinks she’s going to have bruises later from how tight he’s grabbing her. She Darcy snakes a hand between her legs to rub heavily at her clit, her orgasm building heavily in her vagina. “I’m close! I’m… Oh, oh Steve!” She gasps out, and her pussy tightens, and she comes on his cock, her thighs squeezing together, her body shaking as she shudders through the waves of orgasm.

“Oh, oh _Darcy_ …” Steve moans, and continues to thrust, but Darcy’s starting to get over-sensitive, and she starts gritting her teeth as the orgasm cuts short.

“Stop Steve.” She says, and he freezes, his hips barely twitching inside of her. “Fuck, sorry, fuck… Pull out, I’m too sensitive.” She says, eyes shut in pain. Steve pulls out right away.

Darcy, whose pussy gets too sensitive after an orgasm to keep fucking, has never had a man _not_ complain to her about it when she gets off first. Steve just takes it all in stride, ripping the condom off and stroking his cock as he takes in her ruined tights and naked chest. He looks like he would be satisfied just finishing like that, spilling himself over her naked breasts and thighs, which is why Darcy decides to let him do something she never lets anyone do.

“Steve.” She says, and he looks at her face, the hand on his cock barely slowing. “Straddle my stomach, babe.”

Steve looks confused, but follows her instructions, and Darcy happily takes a handful of that sweet tight ass in her hands.

“Grab the lube from the nightstand?” She asks, but he still looks confused as he does it. Darcy rolls her eyes and takes her breasts in her hands and squeezes them together.

Steve’s eyes widen. “You’ll let me…?”

“Not if you don’t hurry.” She says, but she’s more teasing then anything. Steve scrambles for the lube anyways, squeezing some out onto his palm. “I don’t do this for just anyone.” Darcy warns, as Steve slathers up the valley between her cleavage.

“Darcy… God, you are so beautiful. So gorgeous.” He moans, and Darcy can’t help the little thrill that goes through her body as he lines up. She presses her breasts together, and Steve presses into the tight channel, eyes watching the obscene act with heavy lust and disbelief. “

Oh, Darcy, this feels so good…” He moans as he thrusts in and out the channel, chasing his own release. Darcy just hums and smiles, enjoying the expression on Steve’s face, takes pride of the fact that she’s the one that gave him that look. Steve’s long enough that the head of his cock comes out from the top of her tits and she experimentally opens her mouth and licks at the head on one of his thrusts.

“Darcy! Oh, oh, I’m…” Darcy leaves her tongue out as Steve stutters his hips and comes on her face and tongue, the white stripes painting her tits and collarbone as well, Steve’s hips jerking uncontrollably. “Darcy…” Steve groans, and he slumps to a seat on her stomach, making Darcy let out a little ‘oof’ at the contact.

“Heavy.” She says, and Steve blushes and rolls off of her with a mumbled sorry. In response she lets him cuddle her, kissing her lightly on the cheek, before grabbing a corner of the sheet to wipe her clean.

Darcy turns towards Steve, who’s looking at her with heavy lidded eyes like he’s on the verge of sleeping.

“You know, we still haven’t eaten yet, right?” Darcy says, sated.

Steve’s eyes widen in what Darcy now recognizes is mock-realization. “I thought you were too sensitive for anything more?”

Darcy laughs at his joke. “Maybe after you wake up?”

Steve smiles and nuzzles her shoulder. “Just warning you, with the serum, I am able to eat a lot more than the usual man.”

Darcy looks into his blue eyes, twinkling with mirth. “Oh, I’m looking forward to it.”  

**Author's Note:**

> I am on [tumblr!](http://bourneblack.tumblr.com)


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